Fragile Flowers
by WhyAye
Summary: Lewis is delighted to discover he has a new granddaughter. But his instincts tell him all is not as it seems, and a dark family secret comes to light. No crime, graphic adult issues.
1. Chapter 1

_Consider  
__the lilies of the field, whose bloom is brief:—  
__We are as they; Like them we fade away,_  
_As doth a leaf._

_- Christina Rossetti, "Consider"_

* * *

Tiny crystals of snow hissed against the windowpane of the nearly-dark flat on a quiet street in Oxford. Oblivious to the weather, and very close to dozing, Detective Inspector Robbie Lewis lay stretched on the settee in his front room. The day's _Oxford Mail_ in his hands sagged in tandem with his eyelids. It was late, and the large tumbler of scotch he'd enjoyed during the evening was adding to his drowsiness.

The sudden buzz of the doorbell jerked him awake, and he crumpled the newspaper as he started up. Blinking, he checked his wristwatch. _Ten past eleven. Must be Hathaway. Who else, at this hour?_

But when he clicked the intercom and inquired about his visitor, it was not his dour sergeant he heard in reply. Instead, a young woman's voice answered. "It's me, Dad."

He immediately buzzed the lock and flung his door open wide.

"Lyn! What brings you here at this hour? Come on in, pet. And who's this?" He stared in amazement at the baby car seat she lugged in one hand. Noting Lyn's obvious breathlessness, he reached for the car seat, peering down at the tiny, pink-clad form asleep beneath a fleece baby blanket.

"Here, let us give you hand with that, get in and get warm." He couldn't take his eyes off the infant.

"Thanks, Dad." Lyn redistributed her other bags and entered the flat as directed by his outswept arm. "Meet Lily, your granddaughter."

"_Granddaughter?_ You never said! When did—?" He blinked. "Ah, sorry, first things first. It's good to see you, it's been ages." He kissed her fondly, and glanced back at the baby. "Obviously." He was unable to control his wide grin. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Wine?" It was slowly creeping into his thoughts that it was highly unusual for his daughter to drop in unannounced, unexpected, and at an hour very close to midnight. "Where's Tim? Has something happened?"

"Tea, please. Can't have wine, I'm nursing." She set down the various bags she'd flung over her shoulders and arms and took a deep breath. "Tim and I had a bit of a falling out. Is it okay if Lily and I stay the night? I didn't know where else to go."

He could tell her words were well-rehearsed, and he felt a nagging unquiet in the corner of his mind. "Of course, pet, you know you're welcome here any time." He brought her a steaming mug of milky tea. "This 'falling out', is it serious?" His voice was full of concern.

She studied the wall. "It felt serious when I left." She sipped her tea carefully, and glanced up. "Ta."

He didn't want to press the subject at this time of night; it was clear his daughter was tired from the long drive down from Manchester. But he was disturbed by the idea that Lyn would run out on her husband in the middle of the night because of a row. He inhaled, allowing the matter to go unchallenged. For now.

"Well, you'll be needing your sleep, as any new mother does. I'll just make up the spare bed. Have you got something Lily can sleep in, or I have a basket I think would work."

"If you have something, that would be great." She followed him into the spare room and helped him with the sheets, avoiding his eyes as she spoke. "Lily's twenty-eight weeks now, about six-and-a-half months. Born twenty-eighth May. I'm . . . I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Dad. She wasn't an easy baby, colicky and all. We were tired all the time and . . . sort of . . . arguing a lot. Tim thought if I told you, you'd come up uninvited and be all telling us what to do. I didn't want to add to his stress, so I went along." She stared at the bed. "I'm sorry, Dad, I should have told you. We were nervous about the pregnancy and the baby just kind of threw everything into a muddle."

He wrapped her in his arms. "Ah, sorry, pet, if I gave you and Tim somethin' to argue about. Only, you know me, you could have told me to stay put and I would. I've always done whatever you tell me, haven't I?" He squeezed her and felt her flinch, as if in pain. He released her immediately, worry written all over his brow.

"Did I hurt you, love?"

She shook her head. "It's just . . . y'know, nursing. Lily hasn't fed in a while, and I'm a little tender."

"Ah, sorry. I remember how it was with your Mam when she nursed you and your brother. It was months before I could hug her proper-like. I'll be more careful, promise." He glanced toward the wardrobe. "Now let me see if I can find that basket."

While he rummaged, Lyn brought her things into the room. Lewis found the washtub-sized basket and lined it with a thick, folded towel. As Lyn gave her approval, they both heard quiet, animal noises from the front room. Lewis looked up, an eager light in his eyes. "Can I bring her to you?"

"Sure, Dad, if you can manage the car seat straps."

A few moments later, he returned with Lily in his arms, gazing at her as though she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "She's a perfect little rosebud, aren't you, Princess?" She obligingly cooed up at him and smiled, grasping his outstretched finger with her tiny hand. He fussed over her for some time, until her squirming and mewls made it clear she was too hungry to be admired any longer. Lyn arranged herself on the bed and took Lily from Lewis. As Lyn started to unbutton her blouse, Lewis ducked his eyes, respecting her modesty.

"I'll just be in the other room. Let me know if you want me for anything, alright?"

"Thanks, Dad."

Lewis went out quietly and returned to the settee, straightening out his newspaper to read. But he didn't read; instead, he puzzled over the unexpected appearance of a baby granddaughter on his doorstep this winter's night. He had been at Lyn and Tim's house at Christmastime last year. Lyn must have been a good four months pregnant, but hadn't said a word. Well, he knew sometimes couples felt it was unlucky to say something too soon. And if it had been a high-risk pregnancy, even at four months they might be uncertain, especially if they had been unsuccessful in the past. Had they? He realized he was not as in-touch with his daughter's life as he probably should be. Certainly, if Val were still alive, she would have known everything about the potential-grandchild aspect of their children's lives. He smiled a little sadly to himself. What Val wouldn't have given to hold Lily. And what he wouldn't give for the ability to see grandmother and granddaughter together.

He shook himself. Life was unfair and cruel, and that was that. He had to be grateful for the little gifts he was given, such as this, his first grandchild, even though Val couldn't share his joy.

He cleaned up the tea things and rinsed out his scotch glass, puttering quietly around the flat to avoid disturbing his visitors. At last, he decided Lyn _had_ to be done nursing Lily, and he peeked cautiously into the spare room. Lyn was asleep on the bed with Lily lying next to her. The baby was awake, playing with her tiny toes. Lewis crept in and picked her up gently after laying a cloth over his shoulder. Holding her up against his chest, he swayed slowly and rhythmically in place, patting her on the back. All the handling techniques came back to him as though it had been only last week since he had burped a baby. He knew it would be awhile before she slept again, so he scooped up the handle of the changing bag and took it out with him to the front room. He spent the next several hours entertaining, and being entertained by, Lily, finding toys in the bag, tickling, talking to, and even reading to her when he found a board book buried deep in the bag.

The next thing of which Lewis was aware was a chill feeling on his chest that hadn't been there before. He stirred from his sleep and opened his eyes. His back felt stiff after a few hours of lying on the settee, and he realized he had fallen asleep with Lily lying on top of him and with his cheek nuzzling her soft head. Lyn now stood over him, cradling the baby and smiling happily.

"You two were so adorable I couldn't bear to wake you. But then she started to stir, and I was afraid she might fall off of you."

He grinned. "Aw, I'd never let any harm come to her, you know that. Guard her with me life."

Then it occurred to him with alarm that there was an awful lot of daylight in his flat for a winter morning. His eyes flew to his wristwatch.

"Oh, God, I'm late, I have to get going, Lyn, I'm so sorry. Stay as long as you like, okay? There's a spare key under the telly if you need to go out. Stay another night if you want, it's been fantastic having you and Lily here."

His daughter smiled some more. "Thanks, Dad. I'll do that. It's been so long since I've spent any time with you. And Lily obviously is in love with you."

"No more than I am with her. She's a peach." He scurried around, getting dressed and wolfing down cereal in milk. Before he went out the door, he paused.

"Lyn, you need to try to work out this thing with Tim, y'know. You should call him. Does he know where you are, even? He must be worried sick, what with the weather and all." He noticed her insubordinate expression. "Eh, pet? C'mon, you're a family now. Try to find a way to make it work. For Lily. Promise your old Dad?"

She set her mouth in a line. "I'll think about it."

"That's a good lass. We'll talk about it over tea tonight, okay? Gotta run." He kissed them both and jogged out the door, keys jingling in his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Detective Sergeant James Hathaway could tell something had changed overnight in his superior officer's life. He had worked with the man for years, by now. Today, too many out-of-character elements compounded to propel Hathaway to the unavoidable conclusion that DI Lewis had at long last found himself a girlfriend. No, more than that. _A lover_. And James strongly suspected whom that lover was.

Hathaway believed without arrogance that he was a pretty good detective. As a detective, he looked objectively at the evidence: Lewis had come in late and disheveled without explanation this morning; Lewis had gone out at lunchtime by himself and come back with a paper cone of bright, out-of-season flowers and a plush brown monkey in a Marks & Spencer bag (Hathaway had peeked when he got the chance); and Lewis was at this moment falling asleep at his desk in the middle of the afternoon. The man had clearly spent most of the night actively involved in something other than sleep and was no doubt looking forward to doing so again. Confrontation was required.

So, when Lewis's sleepy head bobbed forward and he woke himself with a snort and a self-conscious look around the office, Hathaway spoke his mind.

"Looks as though you didn't get much sleep last night, Sir. Dare I ask if there's a new woman in your life?"

To Hathaway's surprise, this audacious remark did not result in defensiveness, anger, or reprimand. Instead, Lewis grinned.

"Yeah, I just met her last night. I haven't been so in love in years."

Hathaway's eyes widened at this unexpectedly frank disclosure. He had come to believe that either Lewis was utterly beyond the attractions of sex and romance or he would eventually find some solace with his oldest, most trusted friend, Doctor Laura Hobson. That he would instead fall swiftly and thoroughly into a physical relationship with someone else was almost inconceivable.

"Fresh flowers and a plush lovey—you're going to see her tonight, too, aren't you?" He tried to sound stern.

Lewis was focused on some distant point his sergeant couldn't see. "Yeah," he said dreamily. "I intend to spoil her completely." Then he looked directly at Hathaway. "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Lewis was enjoying his partner's misunderstanding of the situation, but knew it was cruel to string him along for too long. Before he could explain, however, the telephone on his desk rang.

"Yeah, Lewis."

He listened to the front desk sergeant state that a young woman with a baby was asking to see him. "She says she's yer daughter, Sir," he explained, sounding a bit disbelieving.

"Oh, aye, I'll be right there." Lewis leapt up from his desk, turning to Hathaway on his way out. "I think you're about to meet her." He winked and dashed from the office.

Reaching the front desk, Lewis saw the car seat perched on the desk and located Lyn, pacing by the door. She broke into a nervous grin when she saw him.

"Dad, I have to go back and try to work things out with Tim." Ignoring his relieved smile, she pressed on. "But it'll go ever so much more smoothly if Lily isn't there. She puts such a strain on Tim, what with his job pressures and all . . ." She checked to see if she needed to explain further.

Seeing Lewis's blank expression, she inhaled and continued. "Dad, can you keep Lily here, just until tomorrow? I can be back in the evening to pick her up. It would make things a lot easier. I'm afraid if I bring her back now we'll be right where we were last night. Okay? Dad? Please?"

Lewis blinked. How could he refuse? "Aw, a'course, pet, she'll be fine, it'll be a treat. Don't fret about us, you work things out with your husband. And take your time, if you need to wait til Saturday to pick her up, just buzz me to let me know, okay?"

Lyn flung her arms around her Dad's neck. "Thanks, Dad, you're the best!" She returned to the front desk and kissed the baby. "Bye, Sweetie, be good for Granddad. I know you'll be happy here." Then she headed for the door. "See you Friday!"

Lewis gaped, still not fully comprehending what he'd just agreed to take on. Then he started, realizing something, and called after her. "Lyn! How do I feed her?"

His daughter smiled broadly, despite what Lewis was certain were tears in her eyes. "Milk powder, Dad! It's in the bag, bottles and everything. Okay?"

* * *

Hathaway could only stare as Lewis brought in the car seat, setting it proudly on his sergeant's desk and turning to find a place to set the changing bag. Hathaway expected the child's mother to follow, but she must have been delayed by something. Then he caught the paternal glow in Lewis's eyes. _My God, it's __**his**__. He's sired a child out of wedlock!_

Lewis was taken aback by his partner's stunned countenance, not comprehending James's conclusion about the baby. "_What?_ This is Lily, our granddaughter. The newest love of me life."

Hathaway blinked three times before the import of these words struck home. "Your _granddaughter_, Sir? I didn't know you were a granddad."

"Nor did I, until last night. Lyn just dropped in on us out of the blue." His face became drawn with concern. "I think she and Tim are having some trouble, y'know? So, she's going back to Manchester now to try to get things sorted with him, and in the meantime, I'm to mind Miss Lily until Friday night." He smiled broadly at the cooing infant, babbling at her and shaking a velvet bunny with a rattle inside, letting her grab on to it.

Hathaway felt growing discomfort at the presence of the tiny human on his own, personal desk, and his mind was in a turmoil as he sifted through his erroneous assumptions and mistaken analysis. _Smoke. Now._ "I'm just stepping out for some air, Sir. Back in a minute."

Lewis grinned at his sergeant's retreating back. He knew he shouldn't so much enjoy pushing Hathaway out of his comfort zone, but he couldn't resist it. Chuckling to himself, he settled down at his desk and began reviewing the performance evaluations Hathaway had completed that morning on the three probationary detective constables who had completed their first six months on the job. Generally, Lewis found being between cases boring and filled with paperwork, but this time it gave him the flexibility he needed to keep his granddaughter with him for the rest of the afternoon and during the workday tomorrow.

Lewis was concentrating on Hathaway's understated criticism regarding one officer, Reg Wilkins, whose probationary period had thus far been rather troublesome, when he became aware of someone standing in the doorway of the office. He glanced up quickly. Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent hovered there, scowling.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, did you want to see me?"

He realized she was sternly studying the infant on Hathaway's desk.

"This is . . . James's baby? Why is he bringing a baby into the office?"

"Uhm, no, Ma'am. She's mine."

Innocent's eyes widened with surprise. "_Yours_, Lewis! You're about the last man I expected to show up with a baby in tow. Not Hobson's, obviously, so . . . ?" Her raised eyebrows, half-smile, and answer-seeking tone made it clear her view of Lewis as being overly staid and middle-agedly boring had shifted considerably.

His jaw dropped in astonishment as he grasped her meaning. "Not _mine_, I mean—I'm not the father! _Blimey_! She's me granddaughter. Lily." His brow worked, trying to sort out whether he was offended or flattered by her misperception.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lewis! I see, yes, of course. Your granddaughter." Relieved that she wasn't dealing with the embarrassment of a love-child, Innocent neared the infant, extending her finger to allow Lily to grasp it with both hands. "Aren't you just a little angel?"

Lily broke into a perfect smile as if on cue, and gurgled a happy little sound. Lewis breathed a silent plea to her: _That's right, wee lass, help make this easy for us_.

"I'm minding her today and tomorrow for our Lyn. I hope that's alright, Ma'am. I only just now found out Lyn needs me to do this, and all we're doing the rest of the week is working up progress reports on Wilkins, Hatam, and Burbank. It's alright if I keep her here with me, isn't it?" He used his most winning smile.

Innocent rolled her eyes. "I don't suppose I have much choice, do I? As long as she doesn't disturb anyone, she can stay. But if she causes too much trouble, you'll have to take personal time and remove her. Understood?"

"She'll be perfect, I promise." He was optimistic, although he knew he had no basis for making such a promise. And Innocent's severe expression in response showed she understood exactly that.

"We'll see." She turned on her heel and left the office.

* * *

By the time Hathaway returned, Lewis had read through the report on Wilkins and was in the middle of giving Lily a bottle. He was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the bin. Lily was secured in the crook of his left arm; his right hand held the bottle. His brow was furrowed in concentration and he muttered to her encouragingly.

Lewis spoke without looking up, giving James the eerie feeling that he was addressing the infant instead of his sergeant. "Wilkins, what should we do about him? Hasn't an ounce of street sense, has he?"

Hathaway was staring raptly at the paternal tableau. He could feel a lump in his throat, but he couldn't have explained for anything why it was there. He shook his head to break the spell.

"Ah, Wilkins, right. I was thinking he'd be better off in uniform for a few years. Then maybe we could bring him over if he's learned something."

"Not much point in continuing the mutual torture, is there? It must be as obvious to him as it is to us that he's not suited for this sort of work. Offer him a transfer to uniform or he gets the sack. We're wasting money paying him when he's incapable of doing the job." Lewis set the bottle on his desk, slung a burp cloth over his shoulder with a practiced hand, and pressed Lily against himself, nuzzling her ear and patting her firmly.

Again, Hathaway found himself transfixed by the paradoxical image. Physically, Lewis was the embodiment of fatherly love, tenderly caring for the helpless creature on his shoulder. At the same time, he was fully engaged in his role of superior officer, making tough decisions about the lives and abilities of the men and women under his command.

Lewis squirmed under the scrutiny. "_What?_"

"Sorry, Sir, it's just . . . I'm having trouble getting used to you in the role of baby-minder."

Lewis grinned. "Me true calling." Then his expression turned mischievous. "Want to give her a try?" He held the baby out toward Hathaway.

"_No!_ . . . Sir. I mean, _No thank-you_, Sir."

Lewis secured Lily in her car seat and packed up everything else, carefully stowing the used bottle for cleaning at home. He added the two other performance reviews to the bag. "Maybe I can get to these tonight. Lily will be back here tomorrow, and I suspect it won't be the most productive day." He loaded himself up, and turned to James. "Goodnight, Sergeant."

"Goodnight, Sir."


	3. Chapter 3

Lewis was late again Friday morning, looking at least as disheveled, and even more badly shaven, than the morning before. He groaned as he dropped into his chair after carefully placing the car seat and its occupant on his desk.

"Rough night, Sir?" This, despite the answer being obvious.

Another groan.

"Not sure I caught that, Sir." Hathaway was careful to avoid an offer of assistance.

"Ohhh, God, Hathaway, I am way too old for this. Thank God Lyn is coming tonight to get her. I love her to bits, y'know? But she's killing me." At last he looked up, and James had to concur in that assessment. Lewis had dark circles under his eyes and an inability to focus on anything. When Lily began to fuss in her seat, Lewis's first reaction was to sigh. Then he inhaled, squared his shoulders, and went to work.

When he unfastened the straps and took her out, it was apparent she needed her nappy changed. To Hathaway's horror, Lewis performed this operation right there on his desk, spreading out a towel from the bag and rapidly unfastening, wiping, administering ointment, replacing, and refastening everything in moments, ending up with a happy baby and neatly folded-up, soiled nappy. Lewis looked at it keenly.

"Ah, keep an eye on her, alright? I think I'll dispose of this in the gents'."

Happily, Lewis was back within moments and Hathaway had been called on to do nothing more than ensure that no emergencies occurred in his absence. James smiled stiffly at Lewis, and immediately engaged himself in the paperwork on his desk. Lewis picked Lily up and stretched her out, belly down, along his thigh, her head resting on his knee. He draped a baby blanket over her.

"That's a good lass, time for a little snooze." With her resting there, he was perfectly capable of reviewing Hathaway's evaluations of the other two probationary constables. Hatam and Burbank were performing above expectations, so no action needed to be taken except to sign and forward their reviews. After James forwarded the paperwork on to the Chief Super, the two partners discussed the three recruits for the better part of the morning while Lily dozed on Lewis's knee.

At half past eleven, Chief Superintendent Innocent stopped by to ensure that work was being done despite the presence of the baby, and she was quite satisfied with what she saw. Hathaway noticed she paused longer than necessary, gazing fondly at Lewis as he administered another bottle to Lily, cooing at her and cuddling her. When she caught Hathaway's eye and realized he had been watching her, she frowned, harrumphed a little, and informed them that they were expected to meet with her and Wilkins at two o'clock.

"_Both_ of you." Pointedly. Meaning Lewis would have to find someone else to watch Lily.

Lewis fell into a funk for some time then, puzzling over whom he could trust to call on and stewing about why he couldn't simply bring Lily along to the meeting.

"We're going to sack the man, Sir. You can hardly bring in the family to witness his humiliation."

"It's not like she has any idea what's going on. She can just be in the corner, not bothering anyone." Lewis fumed. But he knew that was not a practical idea, the meeting was bound to be emotionally charged.

"Who doesn't have any idea of what's going on?" The female voice came from the doorway, and both men grinned at the speaker. "I heard you have a baby, Robbie."

"Laura! You have to meet me granddaughter, Lily." Lewis held her up proudly.

A slow, wide smile spread across Doctor Hobson's face. "She's beautiful, Robbie! Why didn't you tell me you were a granddad? Afraid I'd think you were too old?"

Hathaway resisted asking the obvious question—_too old for what?_—and couldn't help smirking at the doctor's enthusiasm.

"I'm certain he's not too old for a baby, grandchild or otherwise." Hathaway fully expected the glare that he received from both of them.

Lewis explained the circumstances of why he hadn't known until now that he was a grandfather. Laura looked skeptical at what he identified as Lyn's reasons for not telling him.

"Are you sure she's alright? That sounds like post-partum depression, or maybe something worse."

"Worse, whaddya mean, _worse_?"

Lewis was not about to accept uninvited criticism of his daughter, and Laura knew better than to provoke him where his family was concerned.

"I'm sure it's nothing, sorry. Doctor's habit, always trying to find something wrong. And anyway, she's come forward with the little angel now, so there's no harm done, right?"

He only grunted in response.

She looked eagerly at Lewis. "Robbie? Can I . . . can I hold her?"

_Kiss-up_, Hathaway thought, uncharitably.

Laura happily cuddled Lily, and Lily happily gurgled and giggled in response, while Lewis beamed at the two of them.

_They make a cute family_, Hathaway couldn't help but observe. Then snorting cynically, he turned his back, reviewing his notes on Wilkins so that he would be able to answer any questions and refute any accusations. He studiously ignored the three-way cooing on the other side of the office. _Too sickeningly sweet_, he told himself, not sure why he felt such resentment.

After some time, Hathaway closed up his notes and suddenly started in alarm.

"Sir, it's nearly two! We need to go to that meeting . . ."

"Aw, right. Um, Laura, can you just watch her for maybe an hour? Everything is in that bag there . . ." Lewis was gathering what he needed for the meeting and rapidly heading for the door.

Hathaway glanced up sharply, expecting a serious clash of wills. But he was sorely disappointed.

"Oh, could I? That would be great! Absolutely, Robbie, take your time."

Despite his best efforts, Hathaway could identify no evidence that she was being insincere.

When the meeting was at last over, both men felt rather beaten up. Wilkins had been defensive and resentful of their criticisms. But Hathaway had well documented all the complaints against him, and Innocent could do nothing but side with her detective team. Wilkins flatly rejected the offer of a transfer to uniform, seeing it as demeaning and stating he'd never hear the end of it, which was probably true. In the end, he accepted an offer of a transfer to uniform in another jurisdiction, and Innocent sent her sergeant to identify the available posts. Lewis and Hathaway were done, and they slumped out of the meeting with no feeling of pride or accomplishment.

Upon their return to the office, they found Doctor Hobson leafing through a Police Federation periodical, with Lily sitting on the floor playing with her new plush monkey. Laura held up a folded, soiled nappy.

"Where are you putting these?"

"In the bin in the loo. I'll take it." Lewis checked the scene admiringly. "Looks like you two got along great."

Laura grinned. "Of course. We talked about you. That's what always happens when you leave two girls alone together who both know you."

Hathaway had to satisfy his curiosity. "Where did you learn baby care, Doctor? Don't tell me it's all instinct. Or do you have some hidden secret in your past?"

She gave him a mock scowl. "If I do, it will remain a secret. At least, from you." She followed up with a smile. "No, nothing like that. Only several nieces and nephews."

As he went to dispose of the nappy, Lewis looked back at Laura playing with Lily. Although he couldn't explain the warm glow the scene gave him, it was enough for him to simply enjoy the feeling.

When he returned, Doctor Hobson reluctantly left, explaining she had some things to take care of before the end of the day. Lewis fastened Lily in her car seat, noticing she was becoming drowsy. He sat down heavily in his chair and, soon after, Hathaway looked up to find Lewis was sound asleep with his head on his desk, drooling slightly.

Hathaway snorted in amusement and pity. The man clearly was running very short on sleep. James expected Lewis would turn in the moment Lyn and Lily were gone tonight, and probably not stir until noon or even later on Saturday. He couldn't imagine himself after two consecutive, bad nights' sleep, especially not with the added burden of child-minding duties.

As Hathaway stared, Lily began to stir, flexing her arms and legs, and opening her mouth as if tasting something. Then her face screwed up and slowly turned red. Hathaway had the feeling he was watching a bomb explode in slow motion.

Wanting to prove he, too, had baby-minding instincts, he tried tickling Lily, flicking the bottoms of her feet and gently poking her sides as he had seen Lewis do with much success.

Unfortunately, either his technique was bad or it was not what she wanted. Her eyes first flew open, then bunched up tighter than he would have thought possible. And then the wailing began.

Hathaway could not conceive of a sound better designed to drive a person into madness. Lily squealed in an impossibly high register, then shifted into total silence as she collected her breath for another onslaught, unchanging in her expression so as to give the impression she had simply switched off her speakers. She unleashed another tidal wave of sound, smashing into Hathaway, breaking over his head, seeking to drown him. The sonic shock of it stunned James into immobility. _How can so much volume come from such a tiny source?_

Lewis was awake and fumbling with the car seat straps, at last clutching Lily close to himself, patting and cooing at her. And the sound stopped.

Hathaway was white and shaking, breathless with his utter failure to manage the child for five minutes. Lewis looked at him, about to chide, but realizing how traumatized his sergeant was by the experience.

Instead, he cracked a half-smile. "You okay, Sergeant?"

Not in the least amused, Hathaway did not return the smile, but the manner in which he gazed at his superior officer admitted complete, humiliating defeat.

Lewis resisted the opportunity to blatantly poke fun, preferring a more subtle approach.

"I think we can call it a week at this point. Would you like to come over for a beer, James?"

His sergeant's eyes flared in horror for only an instant before his mouth twisted wryly, recognizing the wind-up.

"Thank-you, Sir, but maybe some other time."


	4. Chapter 4

It was around noon on Saturday when Laura Hobson's mobile rang, the screen declaring: _Lewis calling_.

"Hi, Robbie, what's up?"

She barely recognized the hoarse voice coming through the phone. "Laura, can I ask a huge favor?"

"Of course, what do you need? Are you alright, you sound terrible."

"I'm completely knackered. Lyn didn't show up last night, I can't reach her, and I've been up with Lily for ages. I can't stay awake another minute and me house isn't safe for her without someone watching."

"You need me to come over for the day? Longer?"

"Long enough for me to get a few hours' sleep, is all. I really appreciate it. You were so good with her yesterday."

"I'll be right there, Robbie. I'm looking forward to seeing her again."

* * *

Lewis let her in immediately and gave brief directions as she surveyed the premises. The kitchen was in considerable disarray, bottles in need of washing piled up in the sink, and a half-full mug of cold coffee was on the counter. The sitting area was better; the only sign that things were not normal was yesterday's unopened mail on the coffee table next to a vase of lovely cut flowers in need of water.

"Changing bag is there. Her milk's in the fridge." He looked rough, bags under his reddened eyes, hair in a mess, and the morning's stubble, compounded with yesterday's ineffective shave, gave him the beginnings of a real beard. There was a large, wet spot on the leg of the pyjama bottoms he was wearing. He noticed her looking at it.

"She peed on me. Didn't get the last nappy on very well. Guess I better put these in the wash." He turned and headed for the bedroom with nothing further than, "Thanks, Laura. You're a godsend."

Laura had no trouble entertaining the little girl for several hours, during which she tidied up the kitchen and added water to the daisies on the coffee table. She wondered how long it had been since Lily had been fed, and went to see about getting a bottle set up. She stared and stared at the contents of the refrigerator, unable to find a bottle of baby milk. When she heard Lily starting to fuss a little, Laura scooped her up, checking her nappy to see if that was the problem. No, it had to be feeding time. _Sorry, Robbie, your directions weren't clear enough._

She went quietly into the bedroom after her knocking drew no response. She gently shook his bare shoulder. "Robbie? So sorry to wake you, but I can't find the milk in the fridge. What should I be looking for?"

He blinked at her, her words slowly registering. "Uhhh . . . I put it in somethin' . . . I can't remember. Uh, I'll have to go look, I don't remember what I ended up using."

"Sorry." She felt bad about him having to get up.

"'S'okay, that's the best stretch of sleep I've had in days. What was that, three hours?" He threw his legs over the side of the bed and got up, stumbling out of the room ahead of her. He was wearing only his boxers, and Laura couldn't stop her next thought: _He certainly has a nice bum. Always has had_.

She followed him out to the kitchen, and he poked around in the fridge a bit, finally pulling out a green brandy bottle.

"It was all I had." He smiled ruefully. "No wonder you couldn't find it. Who puts baby milk in a used brandy bottle?"

She couldn't help but giggle as he handed it to her. He was so rumpled-looking with his wrinkled boxers and mussed-up hair. And he seemed either oblivious or completely not caring about how he looked. She thought the latter most likely.

"You go back to bed now, Robbie. You should have at least another six hours' sleep. Doctor's orders." She took him by the arm and turned him around, pointed him toward the bedroom, and propelled him in that direction, giving his bottom a little shove.

He complied, and indeed it was more than four hours later when he at last emerged from the bedroom the second time. He was yawning, but he appeared much improved. This time he had gotten dressed and attempted to smooth out his hair. He found Laura curled up on the settee, legs tucked up, with Lily propped up against her thighs. She was playing "This Little Piggy" with her, while the baby gurgled in delight.

"Well, you look better. Welcome back to the world of the living. There's some egg and chips keeping warm in the oven, if you're hungry."

Lewis gazed in frank admiration. "You're good."

"Don't get any ideas, Lewis."

He feigned wide-eyed innocence. "I'm just saying, you're good with her." Then he grew serious. "No word from Lyn?"

"No, nothing. Doesn't it concern you that she hasn't rung you?"

"Yeah, but what can I do? Seems a bit premature to, I dunno, call the Manchester police? I don't have any reason to think there's anything wrong. I expect the roads are bad. Maybe she got the day confused. She'll probably show up yet tonight."

Laura frowned, finding this all very odd. "Something about it doesn't feel right, Robbie. What if she _doesn't_ show up tonight? Are you planning on struggling through another twelve hours alone?"

He sighed as he fixed himself a plate of food, realizing with a jolt that he was famished and hadn't had anything solid all day. "Look, Laura, what else can I do? Drive up there and leave her on their doorstep?"

Laura set Lily on the carpet and came over to the counter where Lewis was wolfing down his food, her face knotted in concern. "Look at you, Robbie. You're not holding up very well. You don't need to do this by yourself, you know." She rubbed his shoulders and he groaned softly as his tense muscles started to loosen. "I can stay; we can take turns sleeping, alright? Anyway, I wouldn't get any sleep if I went home now. I'd only lie awake feeling guilty about leaving you here on your own."

He turned and faced her. "Really? You'd stay?"

"Absolutely. I'll lie down now and you can get me up during the night, say, three o'clock?" She rummaged in her bag, pulling out a toothbrush. "See? I came prepared for this."

A thought occurred to him. "The spare bed is still made up from when Lyn was here. If you give me a moment, I can get it changed."

She considered this. "But you'll need it if she shows up yet, tonight. I can sleep on top."

"You're sure? I can change it. It's really no trouble at all."

"Of course it's trouble, and it will be even more trouble if Lyn pulls in around midnight and needs sleep herself. Don't worry about me. We doctors are used to catching our kip wherever we can."

"Okay, if you really don't mind. You're the best, Laura. And you'd better get started on your sleep. Three in the morning can come 'round awfully fast."

"Goodnight, then."

"G'night."

Lewis caught up on his mail while Lily slept in her basket. Every now and then, he reflected on how serene he felt, knowing he had backup, knowing Laura was asleep in the next room. He really should think more about their relationship, he decided. But he got no further than that thought when he heard a car door slam outside the flat. He peeked out the window and saw a taxi pull away and someone approaching his door. When the light from the lamppost fell on her face, he saw it was Lyn. She seemed to be wiping her eyes.

He jumped up to let her in so she wouldn't have to use the bell. "Hey, pet, come in. Lily's asleep right now, but you get yourself settled. I saw the taxi, you didn't drive?"

"No, I . . . I didn't want to risk the roads at night. I took the train down."

"Probably wise." He studied her face closely until she looked away. "Hey, have you been crying? What's wrong, pet?"

"Oh, Dad. I don't think it's going to work out between me and Tim." Her eyes welled up.

Lewis started to put his arm around his daughter, but she pulled back. "I'm alright. Just tired. How's Lily? You two doing alright?"

"She's fine, we're great. She's there, sleeping." He caught himself in the lie. "Well, _she's_ great, but I'm worn out completely. I've had a friend come in to help, you remember Laura Hobson?" At that moment, Laura entered the room, a little sleepy-looking.

"I thought I heard voices. Hi, Lyn."

"Hey, you're supposed to be resting up for your shift." Lewis pretended to be stern.

"Lyn needs her rest, too, and she has priority on the spare bed. I'll take the settee."

Lyn looked from one to the other. "You two don't have to pretend anything in front of me. Go ahead and sleep together, I don't mind, honestly."

Lewis turned red. "It's nothin' like that, pet, she's here to help me out, is all."

Lyn could tell his embarrassment was genuine. "Ah. I see. Pity." She gathered up her things. "I'll leave you two to sort out the sleeping arrangements in privacy. Wake me when it's feeding time. I can't wait to nurse her again."

After Lyn had closed the door behind herself, Lewis turned to Laura and stammered. "You—you can't sleep out here. Lily and I will keep you up. Umm . . ." It was clear he was at a loss for ideas.

She stepped in with an offer. "I can use your bed, if that's alright. You don't have fleas or anything, do you?"

"Naw, nothin' like that. You sure?"

"Since we'll be sleeping in shifts, it's not as though we'll be in bed together, right?"

"I s'pose you're right. I don't see what other choice there is."

Laura chuckled. "Honestly, it won't be so bad. Come wake me at three, and I'll get up and you can have the bed to yourself. Nothing naughty about that."

He conceded with a grin. "Me daughter will think there's something naughty anyway. Alright, get on with y'then. You've got about two more hours. Go warm up the sheets for me, woman."

Laughing, Laura headed off to the bedroom, and Lewis settled in, bringing Lily in her basket next to the settee. He picked up the newspaper and sipped the instant coffee he had fixed in hopes of staying awake. Except for the rustle of the paper, all was quiet.


	5. Chapter 5

It was about three hours later that Laura woke up when she felt the bed dip on one side. "Robbie?"

He was already stretching out next to her, pulling the covers up to his chin. "Yeah, Laura, time to get up. I can't keep me eyes open another second. Lily's in with Lyn getting fed. G'night."

Somewhat amazed, she stared at the back of his head. He certainly was uninhibited when he was exhausted. He hadn't hesitated to crawl into bed with her. But she knew he trusted her to act with complete propriety. She sighed and dragged herself out of bed, pulling on her jeans and the comfy jumper she had tucked into her bag.

She quietly went out of the room and closed the door. Deciding to see if Lyn needed anything, she pushed open the door to the spare room where Lyn sat propped up with her blouse open so Lily could nurse. Although the light was not bright, Laura gasped sharply at what she saw, even as Lyn scrambled to cover herself.

"Sorry, Lyn, I just meant to see if you needed anything." Laura came over and sat on the end of the bed, silent for a moment, trying to suppress her shock. "Lyn? Let me see, okay? I'm a doctor."

Tears trickled from Lyn's eyes but she made no movement to comply. Nor did she move to stop Laura from pulling her blouse aside and studying the green and purple bruises that covered her breasts, ribcage, and belly. There were bite marks; angry, linear welts; and small, circular burns widely ranging in age. Lily continued to nurse, unmindful of the tension in the room.

Laura took a deep breath. "Tim does this." It wasn't a question.

"No, it's me, I'm clumsy. I slipped on the ice."

Laura snorted. "Look, it's my job to identify injuries exactly like this. I know what they are. Only, by the time I see them, generally the woman is already dead. I can tell precisely when you got these and what caused them. Cigarettes, an electrical cord, a broom handle, and something smaller, a hairbrush?" Laura pointed as she identified the source of each injury. "And he's bitten you here, here, and here." She studied Lyn's reaction. "Am I right?" More gently. She _knew_ she was right.

"Please don't tell Dad." Lyn's voice was a mere whisper. "He'll be so angry."

Laura wasn't sure which "he" she meant, but she let it go. "Sweetheart, your Dad needs to know. Otherwise, he'll be ready to send you back to Tim to try reconciliation again." A new awareness came to her then. "And Lily, has he started on her?"

Lyn studied the floor. "Yeah. He hit her Wednesday night. That's why I brought her down here. I put up with it when it was just me, but I couldn't bear him hurting her."

"No, of course not." She fell silent a moment, working out what to say. "Have you put anything on these burns? You don't want them to get infected."

Lyn shook her head, her eyes watering again, and Laura fetched antibiotic ointment from the bathroom. By the time she returned to the room, Lily had finished nursing and Lyn had her sitting up on the bed. Laura gently applied the ointment to all the open sores. Most were on her front but several were on her back and arms, and a few on her inner thighs. Lyn winced a bit with the pain, but held back her tears and didn't cry out. When she was done, Laura picked up Lily and patted her back to help her burp.

"You mustn't go back to him, Lyn. It won't stop, it will never stop, not unless he gets serious help for this problem. Does he know where you are?"

"No, I managed to slip out after he fell asleep."

"Good. And you came on the train?"

"Yeah. He took my car, did something to the engine so it won't run."

"How did you pay for your ticket?"

"I had to use his credit card. He took all my money and I've never had a card in my own name."

Laura thought. "He'll notice it missing first thing, won't he? Then it won't take him much time to find out what sort of ticket you bought with it. And once he knows you've come to Oxford, well, where else would you be beside here?"

"I didn't take his card, I bought the ticket online. I only took his cash so I could get a taxi here. There wasn't enough for a train ticket."

"Ah. Clever girl. If his card isn't missing, with any luck it may take him a while to figure it out. But he'll end up here eventually." She thought for some time. "Why don't we set you up at my place until this gets sorted? He won't find you there. We'll go there first thing after lunch, when we're all awake and thinking straight."

Lyn inhaled deeply. "I suppose Dad has to find out."

"Of course he does. The only question is whether you tell him or I do."

Lyn looked up pleadingly, desperate. "Promise me you won't tell him. He should hear it from me."

Laura firmed her mouth. "I'll only promise not to tell him as long as _you_ promise _me_ you'll tell him first thing."

"Okay, I promise." Lyn thought a moment. "Will you get in trouble if you don't tell the police? As a doctor, I mean? Do you have to report this?"

"No, I'm not required by law to do so. But my conscience won't leave me alone if one of us doesn't report it." She sat down next to Lyn and took her hands. "What he's doing is criminal. He mustn't get away with it. He'll keep doing it until someone stops him, even if he kills you, or Lily, first. Reporting it is doing him a favor, he doesn't like the way he is any more than you do. But he doesn't know how to stop himself, and he only knows to blame other people for his own actions. Can you understand that?"

The younger woman sighed. "I should have waited to have the baby. Things weren't this bad before I got pregnant."

"Don't blame yourself, this is not your fault." She took Lyn's shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "_Not. Your. Fault._ Regardless of what he's told you. Understand?"

Lyn closed her eyes for a long time. Laura thought perhaps she'd fallen asleep, until the young woman let out a long breath. She spoke without opening her eyes.

"What am I to do? I have no job, no money . . . and Lily. She's so fragile."

Laura patted her arm, carefully. "You have your Dad. He'll make sure you land on your feet." She knew Lyn needed to feel in control of her own life, and changed tack. "Weren't you in nursing?"

"Yeah. Tim said I had to stop when I got pregnant."

"Well, you're not pregnant any more, and you can make your own decisions without Tim's help. The Radcliffe is always in need of experienced nurses. You'd be great at the Women's Centre or Children's. I'm sure you can stay with your Dad until you get settled, then find your own place and start a new life, you and Lily, free from this hell you've been through." She noticed Lyn's skeptical expression. "You can do it, Lyn, I know you can. If you're strong enough to put up with all this, getting a new job and home will be fairly easy. And you'll have us to help you."

Lyn smiled wanly. "It all seems so impossible. Tim has been . . . _everything_ for me for the last year or so. Makes all the decisions. I do love him, y'know. But it's been nice being with Dad. And you." She warmed a little. "I know you two aren't together or anything, but it feels like you're Lily's grandparents, y'know?"

Laura laughed. "Ooh, I'm not sure I'm ready for grandparenthood."

"Oh, sorry, I don't mean you seem old. Only that it feels comfortable like that. Like family." She settled down into the pillows and yawned.

Laura took that as her cue. "Get some sleep, dear. I'll take Lily out to the other room. Don't worry; you're safe now. He can't hurt you or Lily any more." She picked up the baby and turned out the light on her way out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Laura read to Lily and played innumerable rounds of "This Little Piggy." She put water on to boil and set up the teapot. She had halfway finished her mug when she heard the bedroom door open, and Robbie came around the corner, dressed in jeans and plain grey t-shirt, and looking better-rested than he had since Lily's arrival. She grinned.

"You have quite the beard there, Inspector. That's not regulation, is it?"

He snorted, and rubbed his chin. "It's coming off as soon as I get in the shower." He noted her raised eyebrows. "Sometime today, alright? First things first. Is there tea?"

She gestured and he fixed himself a mug, surveying the baby entertaining herself with a toy in the middle of the room. "When does she feed again?"

Laura checked the time. "Not for a couple hours." She finished her mug and set it in the sink. "I suppose I need to take advantage of the empty bed while I can."

He chuckled. "Yeah, sorry about . . . y'know. Barging in with you last night. If I hadn't lain down I would have fallen down. Go get some sleep."

She turned, studying him. "Robbie . . . we need to talk, the three of us, when we're all awake at the same time. Alright?"

He blinked, not understanding. "Okay, fine. Anything in particular?"

Laura set her mouth firmly. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him, but she'd promised Lyn. And Lyn was right, Robbie should hear about the abuse first-hand from his daughter.

"_What?_" He was suspicious.

"Not now. Sorry. We'll talk about it later." She disappeared into the bedroom.

Lewis puttered around, taking care of bills, wiping down the kitchen counter, collecting up and washing Lily's toys, and doing whatever other little bits needed doing. After a while, he settled down, gazing out the window at the brightening sky and thinking. Something was on Laura's mind, but he couldn't tell if it had to do with Lyn, Lily, or himself. And it was unlike her to not speak her mind. It troubled him.

As he stared out the glass, a car pulled up and he recognized the person who got out. He went to the front door before the bell would disturb the two women asleep in the flat.

"C'mon in, Tim. Lyn didn't say you were coming, too."

"Thanks, Mister Lewis." Tim had never felt comfortable calling Lewis "Dad" or "Robbie."

"Tea?"

"Please. Two sugars." He glanced around the flat. "Is Lyn . . . ?"

"She's sleeping. You don't mind waiting a couple hours, at most?" Anyway, I'm sure you'll want to stay and have something to eat. Have you had any breakfast?" Robbie handed him a steaming mug.

"I'm fine, thanks. Had a bite in the car on the way down."

Lewis gestured toward the sitting area. "Can we talk, Tim? I'm a bit disturbed about what's gone on the past several days. I'd like to know what it is I'm not being told. The truth."

Tim swallowed hard. "Well, Sir, the truth is not easy. Lyn . . . she hasn't been the same since she had the baby. Did she tell you it was a difficult pregnancy?"

Lewis nodded. "Yeah."

"She gets these crazy ideas in her head now. I think she misses the freedom she had before Lily was born, and in some way, she blames me. She's said some wild things. She's basically driven away all her friends, with all kinds of accusations and suspicions. So she has no one left to confide in, and I think she may be going 'round the bend a bit. I mean, look at the way she brought Lily down here and then simply abandoned her." He sipped his tea sadly. "I know it can't be easy to hear this sort of thing about your daughter, but it's probably for the best to get it out in the open."

Lewis exhaled, long and slow. "Wow. She does seem very distracted and flighty. Is she seeing anyone, a counselor, I mean?"

"I've tried to get her to go, but she won't. From what I've read online, I think she's suffering from a type of post-partum depression."

Lewis's eyebrows raised. "You're the second person to say that, y'know?" He breathed deeply. "Oh, poor Lyn." He furrowed his brow. "What do these online sources say is the best way to handle this?"

"Well, counseling would be best. But this . . . changing environments, running away . . . that's not good. She needs stability. Routine." He squared his shoulders. "I'd like to bring her home with me, Sir. I know she'll resist it. It's easy for her here, not having to confront our issues as a couple, having you to fall back on. But she and I need to work out this . . . this wrinkle in our marriage, and it won't happen if she can run off whenever things get a little tough."

The older man pursed his lips, mulling over the things Tim was saying. His detective instincts required him to take nothing at face value, and to seek out inconsistencies and gaps in what anyone said. But he had to admit, Tim's version of things made a lot of sense.

"She said she doesn't think it's working out between you two."

Tim looked sad. "I know, she said that to me, too. We've been through some rough patches, no doubt. But I'm prepared to put all that behind us, start out fresh."

"Well, that all makes sense to me. She's never said _why_ she thinks it's hopeless."

The flicker of relief that crossed Tim's face did not escape Lewis's notice. But the most likely reason for it, he concluded, was his own concurrence in Tim's decision to bring his wife back home. The older man continued.

"And I think it's best for Lily if you can stay together as a family."

"Yeah, best for Lily."

Lewis kept his other concerns to himself, however. He noticed Tim had been in the flat for a good half hour, well within sight of Lily, who played quietly on the floor. But Tim had made no move toward her, even though it had been over three days since he'd seen her. Lewis also was not inclined to dismiss his own daughter's fears out of hand. He'd never known Lyn to succumb to fantasies or melancholy. It was certainly possible, of course, especially with the birth of a child after a tricky pregnancy. And he knew Lyn wasn't being completely honest with him. He would maintain these reservations until they were confirmed or dispelled. That had been his job for decades and he knew no other way to think things through.


	7. Chapter 7

Lewis looked up when he heard a door open, and Lyn came around the corner into the sitting area. She stopped stock-still when she saw Tim sitting comfortably there, her eyes widening in panic. Lewis watched her closely.

"Ah, you're up, pet. Look who's here."

"Hello, Lyn. I guess you didn't expect to see me here so early." Tim smiled broadly. "C'mon, pet, let's go home, alright? It's for the best, isn't it? We'll put everything behind us. You'll see. We'll get someone in to take care of Lily so you can take care of yourself. Everything will be fine." Tim stood and picked up Lily, holding her close to his chest.

Lyn shot a desperate look at her father. "Dad, don't make me. Please."

"Well, it's your choice, pet. I won't make you. But I think you need to deal with any problems you're having a couple, y'know? You can't just run away from them, you have to work them out so you can stay together as a family. Maybe you should, y'know, talk to someone one, either by yourself or as a couple. It'd be better for Lily to be with both parents, really."

Her eyes dropped, and Lewis saw a flash of betrayal in them. She had counted on him to back her up, he could see. But she gave him nothing, no reason to support her point of view. He inhaled.

"Lyn, is there something you're not telling me? Something I should know?" He watched intently for any kind of communication between husband and wife, but the only sound was Tim, hushing Lily.

Lyn swallowed. "No, Dad." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Nothing you need to know."

Tim came forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. "That's my girl." He smiled.

Lewis felt something nagging at him, but nothing here gave him reason to object. There was something, _something_, he knew, that wasn't being said. Maybe if he could talk to Lyn alone.

"C'mon, Lyn, get your things together. I'd like to get back on the road while the weather is still good."

Lyn silently returned to the spare room, and Lewis gathered up the baby's things, packing the changing bag and collecting items from the kitchen. Lyn emerged with her bags on her shoulders, reaching for Lily's car seat. But Tim pulled it away from her. "I have her. I'll take care of her."

Lewis hesitated. "Look, why don't you two make some sandwiches for your drive back. It'll take you hours, and I know it's hard to stop when you have a baby along. I'll just nip into the shower and I'll be done by the time you have everything together. Alright?" He was stalling for time.

Tim spoke up. "Sure, that'd be great. Lyn?"

She recognized her cue, and set down her bags, heading toward the kitchen as Lewis simultaneously headed for the bathroom. He tried to catch her eye, but she was studying the floor, intently.

Lewis started the water in the shower, leaving it run as usual while he got out his shaving kit. It always took some time for the hot water to get flowing. He was about to get undressed when he heard a small crash from the front room, like the sound of a glass breaking. It made the hairs of his neck stand on end.

Without turning off the water, he slipped out of the bathroom, stepping quietly down the corridor. From there he could see flowers scattered on the floor, the small vase of daisies he had bought for Lyn on Thursday, now a puddle of bent stems, water, and broken glass. Then he heard a strange noise: part gasp, part squeak. He turned the corner silently and his eyes widened in horror at what he saw.

Tim had one hand against Lyn's back, smashing her face into the wall, and with the other hand was raining blows on her lower back, the car keys in his hand leaving bloody gouges.

Lewis sprinted into the room and grabbed Tim by the striking arm, flinging him back and shoving him up hard against the wall with a bang.

"_What the bloody hell is going on here?_"

"It doesn't concern you, Mister Lewis. _Does it, Lyn?_"

Lewis was aware of another person entering the room. Laura Hobson had been woken by the noise, and now, after having turned off the shower in the bathroom, she stood at the edge of the room, giving Lyn a hard, but sympathetic, look.

Lyn shot her a glance, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. "Dad, there _is_ something I need to tell you. Tim, my husband, he did this." She raised her shirt without shame, showing the terrible wounds that covered her body.

Tim lunged at her. "_You stupid bitch!_"

Lewis yanked him back by the arm, again throwing him against the wall and slamming him in the ribcage with a right fist like a sledgehammer. There was a muffled crack of bone and Tim gasped in pain. Lewis pressed his face up close to Tim's. "_You bloody bastard_."

Tim attempted a weak smile. "Mister Lewis, I can explain." His voice was full of pleading.

"I don't need an explanation. I have eyes. _You hurt her_."

Lyn spoke quietly, trembling. "He's been doing this for over a year, now. But Wednesday, he . . . he hit Lily. And I had to protect my baby."

"Of course you did, love. It's what parents do." Cloaked in naked fury, Lewis's voice was barely recognizable.

"_Shut up, slag!_" Tim struck Lewis hard on the wrist and broke free of his grip, coming at Lyn, fists out. But he had only gone a single step before Lewis grabbed him around the neck and pinned him back against the wall with a crack of skull on plaster. "_Don't you touch her!_" Lewis hissed.

Tim's face turned red with rage. "You little whore, trying to pass this bastard baby off as mine. You whore around with every man you can, you think I don't know?"

Lyn was shaking her head, tears streaming down her face, barely able to speak. "No, Tim, I never. There was never anyone else, I don't know why you think that."

"I don't think it, I _know_ it. I can smell them, I see your smug looks, thinking I don't know. If it were my child, it would be a son, not a weak, fragile, bawling girl. Tell your Dad, go on, tell him about all the men you've been with, you shameless slut!"

Trembling, Lyn sank to her knees. "It's not true, Dad. Stop it, Tim! It's not true."

But Tim had seen a weak spot. "You're no better than a common scrubber. Whore! Harlot! Cheap little—"

"_Enough, man!_" Lewis was furious. "Stop it, _now!_" His eyes burned into Tim.

Lyn had collapsed into tears, and Hobson was moving carefully toward Lily, hoping to move her as far from the havoc as possible.

Tim was shouting now. "_You lying bitch!_ You sleep around and expect me to care about this piece of shit you call our baby! Cocksucking little whore!"

"Dad, please! _Please! Make him stop! PLEASE!_"

Lewis took everything in and ended it the only way he saw possible. He swiftly swung the weight of his whole body toward Tim and, in the same motion, struck him hard in the face with his right fist. The shouting stopped and Lewis drew back his bloodied knuckles, staring at the blood flowing freely from the ruin that had been Tim's nose. Lewis stood a moment, watching the blood drain onto the front of his shirt, before he realized the young man had gone limp. Lewis opened his left hand, releasing Tim's neck, and Tim slumped to the floor.

Laura dashed forward, pressing her fingers to Tim's neck. With obvious relief, she turned around. "We need an ambulance."

Silently, Lewis offered her his mobile and went to put his arm carefully around his sobbing daughter.

"Call for police, too, Laura."

"There's no rush, we can report him later."

"Not _him_. Report _me_. They'll need to charge me." His voice was quiet but steady.

Laura was shaking her head. "You can hardly be liable for this, Robbie."

"_Just call them_."


	8. Chapter 8

Jean Innocent made sure her impatience carried through the phone all the way to the receiving end. "Why is it I'm being called out on a Sunday? For—what did you say, Grainger? A _domestic disturbance_?"

"Domestic _assault_, Ma'am."

"Isn't that PVP's bailiwick?" Thames Valley had a separate department focusing on "Protecting Vulnerable People," and this sort of offense would usually fall directly into their area.

"PVP is on it, Ma'am. But it's . . . it's DI Lewis, Ma'am. He's landed his son-in-law in hospital. Charges are pending; it's not clear yet if the lad will survive. So, he could be facing manslaughter. The Assistant Chief Constable thought you should be aware. Major Crimes is on tap in case it turns into . . . you know. Homicide." DI Grainger did not like to be the bearer of bad news, but at least he was confident he had done nothing to aggravate the situation.

"Lewis? _Manslaughter?_ You sure you've got the right man?"

Grainger exhaled loudly. "Saw him myself. I've worked with the man near ten years, I think I know DI Lewis when I see him. Even when he's sitting in a custody cell covered in blood and looking like a criminal."

She frowned. "Any idea what this is about?"

"No, Ma'am. He said he'll only talk to you. There are a couple of witnesses, his daughter and Doctor Hobson, but PVP is keeping them under wraps."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

* * *

The cell door clicked open and Lewis got to his feet when he recognized his visitor. "Ma'am."

"Relax, Lewis. Sit down." Normally, she would have expected DI Lewis to look completely out of place in a custody cell, but that was not the case. She appraised his shocking appearance: a good three days' growth of beard, hair in a tizzy, bandaged knuckles on his right hand, and, as Grainger had forewarned, blood. All over his shirt front and arms, streaks on his face and in his hair and beard. She had read the medical report and was familiar with the usual effects of a broken nose, so the sight did not put her off or come as a surprise. What alarmed her far more was the angry smolder in his eyes. _He's not sorry he did it_.

"Speak, Lewis. What is this about? Remember, you are under caution." She hated to add that bit, but as a police officer questioning him, she was required to do so.

Lewis's jaw was working, and he narrowed his eyes to a gleam. For just an instant, Innocent feared for her own safety. She'd never seen the man angry. Not like this.

"The bastard hurt my daughter. Worse, he convinced her to accept it, that it was her fault. And then he had the balls to try to swindle me into taking his side. When I saw what he'd done to her . . . and that he hit Lily, too . . . I had to protect her. I _had_ to . . ."

He was shaking now. He looked up at his supervisor with feral eyes she didn't recognize. "I'm cold, Jean. Can I get a rug or something?"

She blinked at his use of her Christian name. He stared, waiting for her response. She jerked back to action.

"Yes, of course. Is there someone who can bring you a change of clothes? PVP—who's on this anyway? They don't need your shirt as . . . evidence?" She trailed off, noticing the look he was giving her—cold, keen, a bit aggressive—_hungry_. Totally unfamiliar on his face.

When he answered, his voice was a growl. "DI Lincoln is on it. They don't need any evidence, Ma'am. I've given them a full confession. There were two eye-witnesses."

"Robbie . . . what happened?" Her voice was softer than usual and she put her hand on his shoulder. All she could tell was that he was in a strange place, and she wanted to bring him back to the Robbie Lewis she knew.

"It's all in my statement. I'm sure Lincoln will let you read it."

"I want to hear it from you."

Lewis took a deep breath. "I had to stop him hurting Lyn and Lily. It was all I could think of, okay?" He turned his head away, and she could see him shivering again. She got up and knocked on the cell door. The officer opened it promptly.

"Get him two blankets."

"But, Ma'am, they can't have more than one."

"Then get him one and get _me_ one, understand, Sergeant?"

"Ma'am."

She sat next to him on the bed. "Robbie, you know I'll have to discipline you if there's any conviction. 'Discreditable conduct' at least. Police officers shouldn't be getting themselves arrested for assault. Or manslaughter. You _do_ realize that it could still be homicide if Tim doesn't survive. You could do some real time, Lewis, if CPS and the judge are feeling uncharitable."

He fixed his black eyes on her and she felt a chill. "I don't really care what happens to me." He inhaled. "I know it's wrong to take the law into me own hands. But I'd do it again just the same if I had to." He shivered again. "Y'see, Ma'am, what I do is, I ask meself, 'What would Morse say about how I've behaved?' And I'd like to think Morse would say I did what I had to do, and that's that."

Jean had a flash of insight. "You _did_ have to do it, didn't you? I mean, under the circumstances. Why are you so upset if it was the only thing you could do?"

Lewis spoke as though he were addressing a child. "It wasn't the only thing I could do, though. It was all I could _think_ to do. I'm no better than he is, striking out with me fists at what I don't like. I'm a bloody thug. Just like him."

The cell door opened and the officer held out two grey, wool blankets. Jean took them, draping one over Lewis's lap and wrapping the other around his shoulders. She kept her arm there, holding the blanket in place.

"No, Robbie," she said quietly. "Not at all like him. He struck to hurt the people he should have been protecting. You struck to protect the people he was hurting. The first is what predators do. The second is what parents—what _fathers_—do."

Then she held him in both her arms, and she could feel silent sobs rising in him. "Forgive yourself, Robbie. What you did makes you more human, not more of an animal."

She pushed him back to look directly in his eyes. "Alright? It's very difficult to find fault with what you did, although I believe some people might think you didn't go far enough."

She held him tight again, and whispered in his ear. "You're still you, Robbie Lewis. Fierce protector of your family. Don't think you've become anything less."

She kissed him on the cheek and pushed him back again to study his eyes. They were blue, sad, weary, and wise. They were _his_ eyes. She stood to go. "You'll be alright, Robbie. You'll come out of this and your friends and family will be here. Okay?"

He smiled a little and peeked up at her. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"Well, what I said is what I feel."

"Not for what you said, Ma'am. For the extra blankets." He gave her a very human grin.


	9. Chapter 9

James Hathaway scooped up the two packets of cigarettes from the shop counter and waited for his change. The back part of his mind was hearing, but not listening to, the crackling radio on the wall shelf behind the counter as it droned on about an alleged wife- and child-beater who got what was coming to him when his wife's father caught him. Bashed him so hard he ended up in hospital, in danger of losing his life. James shook his head inwardly at the story. _Why are we so fascinated with other people's sordid, little lives?_

". . . Thames Valley Police Inspector Robert Lewis has been arrested and is in custody for assaulting Barstow, and he could be charged with manslaughter if the Mancunian wife-beater doesn't survive."

Hathaway's attention suddenly zeroed in on the radio. "_What th'?_"

The shopkeeper had been listening all along. "Outrageous, isn't it? Poor sonuvabitch." He turned up the volume a little so they could both hear easily.

The radio continued. "According to our sources, Lewis witnessed Barstow severely beating his wife, Lewis's daughter, and assaulted Barstow in an effort to stop him, fracturing Barstow's nose and ribs. A Thames Valley spokesman stated that the department takes seriously such breaches of the peace by its officers and it is expected Lewis will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Barstow will be charged with multiple counts of domestic assault against not only his wife but also his infant daughter." The announcement crackled and segued into the weather report.

The shopkeeper leaned in confidentially. "If you ask me, they're out to persecute the poor bastard."

"Who, the son-in-law?"

"Hell no, the copper. And I'm not so fond of coppers. But to catch a man beating your daughter and clock him? Who'd blame the guy? I'd a' killed the bastard, myself. _Prosecuted!_ The man's a bloody hero, saving his daughter from that bastard. Effin' cops can't even get it right when it's one a' their own, y'know?"

Hathaway gave a sardonic smile. "I expect they want to make an example of him. Mustn't go outside the law."

"Yeah, y'know, that's probably it. Poor sonuvabitch." He handed Hathaway his change. "Have a nice day."

Hathaway doubted very much that he would.

He drove directly to the Kidlington Station and proceeded to the custody suite. But he met with resistance there.

"I'm sorry, James, you can't just visit him. It's not your case. It's not even your division's case."

"C'mon, Mike. Can you at least tell me how he is?"

"He's okay, I guess. What do you mean? He's under arrest, I expect he's not thrilled about it."

"Well, did he put up a fight? Confess? What?" Hathaway was coming pretty far over the desk, his temper rising. "He's my partner, Mike, I think I have a right to know what's going on."

"Hey, calm down, man, okay? I wasn't here when they brought him in. What can I tell you? He's been quiet. Your Chief Super is in with him right now. He wouldn't talk to anyone else."

Hathaway exhaled hard. He'd have to wait until Innocent came out. She would let him know what was going on. He went out for a smoke, standing impatiently, killing time. _Assault._ He'd seen Lewis angry, angry at _him_, even, but even then Lewis seemed like the last person who would use his fists.

He heard the door open behind him and he stepped to one side to allow the person to pass.

"James! Oh, thank God you're here."

He turned at the familiar voice to see Doctor Hobson and a young woman with a baby emerge from the station. He recognized the smallest of the three as Lily.

"Doctor! What's going on? I heard on the radio . . ." He broke off, realizing the other woman must be Lewis's daughter. Laura caught his look.

"James, this is Lyn, Robbie's daughter. Lyn, James Hathaway, your Dad's sergeant."

The two shook hands.

"Sergeant—"

"_James_, please."

"James. I've heard a lot about you."

Hathaway feigned worry. "Ohh. That can't be good."

She blazed a bright smile. "Not so bad, honestly. From what Dad says, it sounds like you're good for him. Keeping him humble."

Hathaway snorted a laugh. "Well, it goes both ways, I'm sure."

The station door opened again and Innocent stuck her head out. "Ah. I'm looking for all of you. I have news. Come in, let's get some tea."

The followed her to the canteen, then worked over their cups of tea for several minutes in silence. Hathaway couldn't help noticing Lily kept staring at him, a smirky little smile on her face. _Probably gas_, he thought.

At last, Innocent cleared her throat. "Most importantly, we received an update from the hospital. Tim is out of intensive care and should recover with only a badly misshapen nose. He's regained consciousness and has been charged with multiple counts of domestic assault. I understand DI Lincoln has already taken your statement, Lyn."

"Yes, I think I've told her everything."

Innocent smiled benignly at her and continued. "So, that means at most, Inspector Lewis will be facing a charge of ABH, not manslaughter."

Hathaway translated for Lyn: "Assault occasioning actual bodily harm."

Innocent continued. "Yes, thank you. Maximum sentence is five years, but most likely Lewis will get far less than that, I'd say no more than six months. Possibly even community service, only. So keep your fingers crossed. It's up to CPS now to decide the charge. We're trying to minimize police involvement at this point so it doesn't look as though we're covering for our own men."

"Six months!" Lyn looked horrified. "Dad couldn't serve time in prison, he's too . . ."

Hathaway finished. "He's too _nice_. And what he did was so easily justified, Ma'am. Do you really think he'll have to serve time?"

Hobson interjected, grimly. "If you didn't know him, and all you saw was the outcome, you wouldn't think he was so nice."

Hathaway considered before he spoke. "CPS is always aware of the public perception, aren't they? I think the public will find it outrageous if Lewis is prosecuted." He related his experience in the tobacconist's shop.

Innocent kept her face straight. "I know how we all want this to come out, but it's not up to us." She took a quieter tone. "He was pretty shaken when I first went in, but I think we've gotten him sorted out. He seemed calm and accepting of what had happened by the time I left. Most of all, he's glad, Lyn, that all the abuse is over for you."

Lyn smiled sadly. "I'm so sorry it came to this."

They sipped their tea in silence. Hathaway found himself peeking over at Lily to see if she was still looking at him. She was. Lyn caught him at this, and smiled. "I think she likes you. Would you like to hold her?"

Hathaway stammered an answer that was not quite _No_, and so Lyn settled the baby in his arms. He held her gingerly, completely immobilized. Hobson and Innocent both had to look away to keep from laughing outright. But Lyn beamed at him.

"Have you ever held a baby before?"

"Uh, no."

"You're doing great. Here." She draped a burp cloth over his shoulder. "Now hold her upright, leaning against your shoulder. She likes that."

He did so, patting her back gently while she bobbed a bit, checking out the scene from this angle. Then she unceremoniously, and very loudly, belched in his ear. Hathaway burst out laughing, and the jiggling motion made Lily giggle.

Lyn smiled happily at the pair of them. "That means she's very comfortable with you, James. Now if you could just belch that loudly in her ear . . ."

The other two burst into laughter at that, and even Hathaway had to chuckle. _This isn't so bad, after all._ He gave Lily a little kiss on the head. Laura caught Jean's eyes for a fraction of a second, and knew they were both thinking the same thing. But neither said a word.


	10. Chapter 10

Laura, James, Lyn, and Lily returned to Lewis's flat, not wanting to separate until they had more information about what was going to happen. Laura got some spaghetti sauce cooking, and James opened up a bottle of Chianti for himself and the doctor. Lyn nursed Lily, and then laid her on the carpet where she played with a squishy shape that made several different interesting sounds.

Laura sat Lyn down for a serious talk about her future, working out how she would apply for employment at the Radcliffe and advising her on getting a solicitor to start divorce proceedings. Left out of this conversation, James got down on the floor and took the toy from Lily, hiding it under his knee, behind her back, and under his hand. She squealed with joy at this new game, and ended up taking hold of his large hand as though amazed by it, spreading it out and touching his palm in a way he found _very_ ticklish. He didn't notice the two women take a break from their discussion to watch him.

* * *

Hours later, the spaghetti was eaten, the wine was almost gone, and Lily was asleep in her basket. She slept soundly, unheeding of the noise from the adult conversation.

James and Lyn sat on the settee, Lyn leaning against his shoulder, her legs tucked up underneath her. She was having trouble staying awake but didn't want to go off by herself to the spare room. And after what she'd been through, neither Laura nor James was about to tell her what to do.

Laura poured the rest of the Chianti into her glass after James waved the bottle away, and Hathaway found the opportunity—and nerve, thanks to the wine—to ask something he'd been wondering since he'd heard the whole story.

"So, Doctor, you seem to know a lot about domestic abuse for one not even in the field. Do you have some . . . personal experience or something that makes you so knowledgeable?"

They'd been laughing and teasing up to this point for the most part, but Laura suddenly became very serious. Her eyes pierced his, ensuring that he was no longer joking and that he knew she was not, either. She spoke very quietly.

"Yes, James, I do. It's not something I talk about, alright?"

Hathaway swallowed. He had not expected an affirmative answer. "Sorry, I . . ." He looked away. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

The awkward moment was dispelled when the front door opened and Lewis entered the flat, still wearing his blood-covered clothes of the morning, and with even more beard than he had had earlier in the day. They all started up at his entrance, and he stopped short just inside the door.

"Whoa, everybody's here. James! I could have used you this morning." He looked from face to face as though seeing them for the first time.

Lyn jumped from the settee and raced over to hug him despite the dried blood. "Dad! You're out! What . . . what does that mean?" Her voice became more tentative as she realized she had no idea what to expect for an answer.

His face brightened. "'Conditional caution,' is all. That means I can't punch anyone for a year or they'll sentence me for real. Turns out the news people got so up in arms about the whole thing, CPS didn't dare charge me. '_Not in the public interest_.' Goes on me record, but not as a conviction. Though I imagine Innocent will still have her pound of flesh in discipline."

He spotted the empty wine bottle. "What's this? You couldn't wait for me? Fine, I'll have a scotch instead, I think I deserve one."

As he poured himself a measure, Laura looked at him critically. "You _are_ going to get cleaned up at some point, right, Robbie?"

He snorted. "You sound like a wife, Laura. Better be careful or Lyn will get the wrong idea."

"Now, Dad, Laura's given me all kinds of excellent advice today. I'm happy to hear whatever she has to say. How about it, Laura? Any more advice for me before I head off to bed?"

Laura smiled smugly. "Of course. I am an endless font of advice on the relations between the sexes. For example, what to look for in a man. What you want is a man who is humble and thoughtful, not afraid to admit his mistakes, especially because men make so many of them. Like your Dad."

Robbie grinned at her.

"Or James, here. He's a good man, too."

Hathaway blushed furiously.

"Yeah, I noticed he's getting quite good at handling a baby." Lyn smiled shyly.

Lewis raised his eyebrows at that.

Laura continued. "Oh, yes, an ability to admit he doesn't know everything, combined with a willingness to learn. Capital characteristics." She thought a moment. "_And_," she looked significantly at Lewis, "the ability to seek help when he needs it. That's very important."

They all chucked at her list.

"Okay, Doctor, here's something I need help with." Lewis stepped forward and whispered in her ear. She smiled broadly, and all she said was, "Mmm. I think we can manage that."

* * *

_Inspired by Lucy Gannon's television play, Trip Trap, featuring Kevin Whately's awesome and terrifying performance as an abusive husband._


End file.
